


The Royal Magican

by Hockey_Lover31



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Royal Pains
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Dursley Family Bashing (Harry Potter), F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry and Boris Are Related, Hedwig is Done with the Dursley's, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Lawson Family Squibs, No Marissa Casseras, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hockey_Lover31/pseuds/Hockey_Lover31
Summary: Boris Juester von Jurgens-Ratenicz finds a particular owl awaiting for him one summer evening. A Snowy White, he recalls and finds a particular note attached to the owl. A Family Tree, he discovers, where he is surprised to note two half-sisters, one by the name Petunia and the other Lily. After discovering they both have, or had in Lily's case, family. Boris wanted to learn more about this side of the family and if they were just as crazy as the ones he knows. In any case, it was best to let them know about the illness on the male side of the family, having no doubt his father might've passed it to his half-siblings and their male children. Of course, that was until he discovered one Harry Potter, his nephew, was not...treated well.This is Harry's story of living in America with his new uncle and the drama that seems to unfold.Will be set around Season 3 of Royal Pains
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Paige Collins/Evan Lawson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	1. Start of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Note:  
> Voldemort never came back from the graveyard. Harry never really saw Voldemort as his enemy but just the man that killed his parents. The loophole backfiring the entire resurrection as it was based solely on the blood of his enemy. Having defeated him and the Aurors following the Portkey Trace left by the cup, Harry ends up with an anticlimatic school year and goes back to the Dursley's.
> 
> Harry also never accepts Ron's apology, finding it was one too many times his friend had betrayed him and the trust Harry put in him. That left Harry just friends with Hermione and a tentative one with Neville.
> 
> I don't know how much this is going to be updated, it's just an idea I had that I wanted to at least get on paper

Harry felt the sigh build up in his chest but refrained from letting it out as he glanced toward the empty cage that Hedwig was supposed to be in. Ever since the beginning of the tournament where the rules state the participant must go through a Family Tree Bloodline, Harry's head has been swirling with thoughts from the new uncle he's never heard about to not trying to die from the tournament.

Just before the third task, Harry discovered Hedwig was missing along with his Family Tree Line. He had been worried about it but hadn't thought much of it until now. A week later since his discovered Hedwig was missing and she still hasn't turned up in time for him to be put back on the train to where he was now resting in his uncle's car as the man reluctantly picked him up and driving him back toward the house.

Voldemort was gone. Destroyed by the very task of resurrecting himself. It was still a weird thing to think about. _Blood of thy enemy._

Why didn't he think of Voldemort as his enemy? He killed his parents, tried to kill him in the first and second years, but somewhere along the lines Harry never really thought of the man as his enemy. Just someone trying to kill him for reasons Harry didn't really know. To not think of Voldemort as his enemy but for some reason Draco was? Was his uncle right? Was he a freak?

Harry tried to shake off the thought and the image of Cedric's dead eyes as he stared at Harry from when he was killed by the Killing Curse by Peter Pettigrew. He knew he was going to have nightmares and hoped he wasn't going to wake his uncle and aunt up. The first time he woke up his roommates was the time Harry learned the Silencing Charm. Except it seems even after being declared a hero for killing Voldemort again, Harry still wasn't allowed to perform magic outside of school even as they pretty much let him get away with anything else.

Especially as the new Ministry of Magic, one Amelia bones that valiantly survived being attacked by Death Eaters that same night, had taken him aside and calmly told him just what the community might expect from him while trying to simultaneously reassure Harry that he didn't have to do anything, that she would try her damnest to make sure he stayed out of the limelight after learning from her niece that Harry abhorred it. While it did reassure Harry, Harry could still feel the uneasiness that had been developing inside of him since he was first introduced to the magic and the popularity that he seemed to have.

He never understood why he was hailed a hero instead of his parents.

Harry shook his thoughts aside as his chest filled with apprehensive and slight fear as 4 Privet Drive came into view. As his uncle drove them into the driveway, Harry was about to get out when a hand clamped harshly onto his shoulder.

"Boy, listen now and listen well," his uncle threatened as Harry froze under the hand on his shoulder and fought the pain that resonated through him, "we have a guest here. You will make sure your freakishness stays under control and you follow the rules. _Understood_."

Harry felt his throat tighten and nod. "Yes, sir," Harry murmured out and tried to fight his racing heart as he waited for his uncle to remove his hand. Having learned early on in his life that trying to stop any pain would just worsen it, that fighting his uncle's hold would make him dig his fingers tighter into his skin.

He remembered when he was five and tried to fight out of his uncle's grip when it became to tight that his wrist ended up sprained and he could barely move it for a week before it got better. Doing his chores during that time sucked and he was in content pain.

His uncle seemed to nod sharply before getting out of the car and leaving Harry alone with his troubled thoughts. Knowing no one in his family was going to help get out his trunk, Harry slowly moved from the passenger seat and carefully opened the back of the car for his trunk.

Starring at it with hesitation as he remembered just how much it weighed and with the mental reminder, in a suspicious voice that sounded like Hermione, that he really needed to visit Diagon Alley to get it enchanted with a Feather-Light and shrinking charm.

"Hello, young man," A smooth voice that had the accent of someone that came from Germany, Harry turned around and saw a lightly tanned silver-haired man in a light grey suit at the end of the driveway. A black SUV car already moving further down the street and parking itself.

As Harry looked around he noted there were actually three other Black SUV's around too and frowned, knowing no one around Surrey on this street owned this type of, what seemed at least, expensive SUV. Harry would somehow not be surprised if he learned the car was designed to withstand bullets on both the windows, tires, and body of the car.

"Hi," Harry awkwardly said as his hand automatically reached up to flatten his hair to hide the scar on his forehead.

"You must be Harry Potter?" the man asked as he walked slightly closer, making Harry's Fight or Flight skills, the pathetic thing they were, flare inside him. Learning that Flight never worked and Fighting always got him into more trouble, Harry stayed silent and were he was even as he shrugged his shoulders. The man seemed to pause and seemed to eye Harry.

Harry felt like he was under some type of test he didn't know and wondered if he was failing.

"My name is Boris Kuester von Jurgens-Ratenicz, do you know who I am?" he asked with a gentle voice even as he knelt down to look Harry more in the eye than tower over him like seemingly all adults did.

Feeling like his heart was torn between stopping and speeding up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. "You're my uncle," Harry muttered with wide-eyed. His mind darting back to the Family Tree he had done and the fact his mother and aunt had a half brother who seemed to be right in front of him.

"Yes, it has come to my attention my father had two children without my mother's knowledge and abandoned them. I wished to learn more about them," he said smoothly but Harry could tell there was more to the story.

There always was.

With a dry throat, Harry gave a small smile and promised himself he wouldn't try and anger this uncle either. After all, family just seemed to end in his pain and he would hate to have another family member hate him. Because even if Vernon and his sister weren't blood-related, they seemed to hate Harry anyway. He doubt he would see this uncle much anyway, any family he seems to make never actually want anything to do with him.

The Dursley's were certainly going to kick him out once they can.

The Weasley's...no stop. Don't go down that road. You know at least that Fred and George were really your friends. That's all that matters along with Hermione and Neville.

He was about to say something to his uncle when a flash of white entered his peripheral. "Hedwig!" Harry cried out and ignored his uncle as he turned to his lost friend who left the tree she had been waiting on and settled herself on Harry's outstretched arm. She hooted softly and nuzzled the hand that was reached up to pet her. "You had me worried when you disappeared Love. Where'd you go?" he asked in wonder as he softly pet the feather's on her chest just the way she liked before letting her settled on his shoulder and start to groom his wide hair that she could reach.

"Is she yours?" his uncle asked, reminding Harry of the other person there.

Feeling a blush start to come to his cheeks but the sinking feeling enters his chest. "Yeah," Harry muttered, the dejected feeling filling his whole body.

Great, his uncle was going to think of him as a freak for having an owl. He wished Hagrid had gotten him a cat instead sometimes. A particular sharp pull on his hair made him retract the thought as he stared at Hedwig with a smile.

No, he would never wish he didn't have Hedwig. She was his first friend. The only one he could ever really trust to never betray him.

"She is beautiful," Boris said, reminded Harry of the conversation he was ignoring and couldn't help but smile in agreement. "While I would love to talk more, you have just come back from school, yes?" he asked, his accent making the yes seem heavier than Harry would've thought possible.

"Yeah," Harry agreed and looked toward the trunk in the back of the car with a dejected look.

It seemed his uncle followed his train of thought. "Let me help you with that, perhaps with my help it would make it easier to bring it to your room." While it was phrased like a question Harry knew his uncle was going to help regardless and just nodded.

Taking one end and letting his uncle grab the other, Harry felt relief flow through him because it was easier to carry like this as he got the front door open after a small struggle.

"Boy!" a sharp female voice entered from the kitchen and heading toward the front door before it faltered at seeing the duo.

"Harry," his Aunt Petunia said, her voice going sickly sweet that always made Harry want to gag. From both disgust and fear as he remembered when he was younger, his using that tone of voice if he wanted food before it twisted dangerously into him ending up with either a pan thrown at him or the once where his hand had been placed on a burning pan. "I see you've met my brother, Boris. He will be joining us for dinner. Will you be joining us?"

 _Yes_. He wanted to say but his stomach twisted dangerously at catching the gleen in Petunia's eyes. 

"No thank you, Aunt Petunia. The train was kinda long and I ate some food a bit late. I'm not hungry," Harry responded and made sure it wasn't the robotic voice he often used to hide his emotions as he saw his uncles frown.

"Alright dear," she said with a smile that made Harry do his utmost best to not shiver. "I'm sure you can have something later then. I'll let you boys go," she said before disappearing back into the kitchen.

His stomach twisted and for once Harry was glad he remembered to eat near the last hour of the train ride. Hermione going suspiciously quiet when he ate the food he requested the elves to make with a preservation charm on it. It was also, perhaps, why his trunk weighed a bit more than it had at the beginning of the year. A whole two weeks of food preserved in his chest would add extra weight, he just hoped it would last for the whole summer because he knew the Dursley's were only going to give him scraps like normal.

Though, Harry thought as he glanced toward his uncle's stiff posture as they made their way upstairs, perhaps this year might be different, and if his uncle was going to request he eat with them.


	2. The Dinner

The next two weeks were spent with a similar pattern, Harry wakes up before the Dursley's and before his Uncle Boris would arrive and make breakfast where he would then conveniently have snacked before Boris arrived and leave the house with a fake grin toward the family and hang out at the park for the next seven hours. Conveniently missing Lunch and therefore not have to deal with his uncle's wrath of eating their food. During which time he would hide in his room for the next few minutes and have one of the meals the elves packed for him before doing his chores and sneaking out just before dinner with the illusion of playing futbol with friends, an old soccer ball Dudley had but never used, and therefore forget about the time for dinner and just hang out in his room after which.

He got away with it before his new uncle purposely stopped him before heading out once more.

"Come, Harry, join us," his uncle said as he seemingly lounged against the wooden dining chair he was in. Somehow making the simple-looking object almost looks sophisticated.

"Uh, I don't know," Harry mumbled slightly as he fidgeted by the door. Glancing between the door, his new uncle, and Vernon who was glaring outright at Harry, almost daring the boy to stay.

"Please, I have hardly seen you these last two weeks. I wish to get to know you better," Boris said before glancing at Vernon who magically cleared the glare off his face.

Wincing because even without the glare, Harry could see the hard look in Vernon's face even as a smile, that reminded Harry remarkably of a shark, and gestured toward the extra seat that was pulled up to the table. A simple foldable chair that looked like it had just been pulled out of the garage.

"Uh, right," Harry muttered even as he tensed and sat beside Boris, Vernon now at the opposite side of the table. He knew, just by sitting, his uncle would pay him back for not being more careful or having better excuses to not eat with them.

"Where do you go to school?" Boris asked calmly.

"Uh-" Harry started, his mind oddly blank before Vernon took over the conversation quickly.

"St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," Vernon said as he fake relaxed in his seat, his eyes deadly on Harry with a promise for the future.

Fighting down the shiver that threatened to shake his whole body because he knew what was coming after dinner and when Boris left, Harry nodded his head as if he agreed with the statement. "Really? That's quite odd?" Boris said almost offhandedly as he sipped the tea that Petunia had gifted him earlier.

Harry watched in slight amusement at the frown as he sipped because Petunia was no chef and certainly made a terrible tea. Even Harry knew how to make tea properly that didn't taste like shit. "How so?" Vernon asked.

"Well, from what I found, my sister, Lily that is, signed Harry hear when he was born to go to a school called Hogwarts School for the Gifted for when he was eleven. Apparently something she attended at the age along with what I found about my brother-in-law."

"Pah, as if the boy was gifted in anything," Vernon said with a scoff and a dismissive wave, "no, the school certainly saw no gift in him and decided not to let him attend. He goes to St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys because you see, he's quite a disturbed individual. Loves picking fights with the neighborhood kids and at school. I had to send him to a proper school. Now a real gifted child is Dudley. Have I told you about how he's one of the top boxers of his school?" Vernon asked as he clamped a hand on Dudley's shoulder who looked bored out of his mind sitting at the table and sitting next to his father.

Harry watched in slight amusement as he could instantly tell when his new uncle zoned out Vernon, his eyes glazing over just slightly and his head lolling back just slightly enough so he didn't have to even look at Vernon but made it seem like it. His shoulders relaxed just slightly and Harry noticed his fingers twitching a musical patter on his knees that seemed to between entertaining himself and perhaps counting to when he knew Vernon was going to be done talking.

In all honestly, Harry had also memorized how long it took his uncle to talk about his son. Nearly fifteen minutes give or take, usually you pay attention after ten to see where he was in the conversation and generally have another five before you have to start paying attention. If he moved off Dudley to talk about his wife and her amazing garden outside and neatly trimmed grass and hedges, then you have another ten minutes of spacing out.

Harry was about ready to space out himself when he felt a hard kick against the inside of his thigh and felt himself flinch at the contact as he glanced at Dudley who had furrowed brows and an evil look in his eyes. Apparently, Dudley was just as bored as he was if he decided to hurt Harry was more entertaining than listening to his father's praise.

Glancing at his uncle next to him if he noticed Harry jump, Harry felt himself bit his bottom lip as another particular sharp kick against the bottom of his leg felt a sharp pain there and knowing it was going to bruise later that night. Another kick in the same spot and Harry felt his eyes close as he focused on not reacting and reaching down to rub at the bruised spot. Instead, he bit his lip and shifted his posture in the chair, bringing the hurt leg up and curling it underneath his body. Making him sit like his right leg was under the left that was still danging under the table.

Not the most comfortable position in a wooden dining chair, but if it stopped Dudley from hurting it, it was worth it as he shifted his left leg to the side, making it harder for Dudley to reach it without him slouching in his chair and being glared at by either his uncle or aunt for poor posture in front of their guest.

" _Harry_ ," A sharp tone from the doorway from the kitchen to the dining room sounded. Petunia had entered and in her hands was a turkey he had made earlier that had just been taken out. "Do fix your posture," she said, while her expression seemed open and loving, her eyes and tone portrayed the opposite and Harry felt his back stiffen and automatically shift his legs out from under him and back to their original position where he felt another sharp kick against his legs.

Refraining from the hiss of pain, Harry made eye-contact with Dudley and just stared at the boy with a blank face before mouthing at him. "Did you forget I have magic?" and raised an eyebrow. Watching Dudley pale was exactly what he needed and relaxed just a fraction before glancing at his uncle and seeing the murderous look on his face before it became a fake smile once more.

His uncle seemingly oblivious, and Harry really wondered just how stupid his new uncle was, before standing with a smile that made Harry furrow his eyebrows because he noted it was fake. Having grown with the Dursley's he noticed a lot more than people give him credit for.

The fake smiles, the fake laughs people have the look when people just wanna leave a conversation or people. He's noticed the lost look whenever Professor Snape looks him in the eye before hatred returns when he looks anywhere but his eyes. The fake senile personality his Headmaster seems to have. Peeves seeming to always glare at those he notices bully others, often finding Harry whenever he was in the process of having a mental breakdown or a panic attack. He remembered the first year being overwhelmed with everything and Peeves often staying by his side unless he had class or was with Ron or Hermione. Second-year is the most Peeves stayed with him in his hidey-hole around before finally showing him a room that fit his needs. Third-year often glaring at any moving shadow that just might have Deranged Sirius Black and fourth when he talked about spells he knew when he lived that wasn't quite written down or might be borderline illegal.

He notices these things. So when his uncle stood with tight eyes and a fake smile and lying about taking a call outside, Harry figured his new uncle just needed some air to get away from them. Not that Harry could blame them, he still wished he could live with Sirius instead of the Dursley's like he asked in the third year.

He tried not to think about Sirius too often. It led to a heavy heart as he remembered the Aurors finding Peter with Voldemort and clearing Sirius of the charges. The way Sirius took him aside and told Harry he couldn't live with him because he needed to find himself first.

Which, good for Sirius, but it also meant Harry wasn't going to live with Sirius or even Remus who was going to go with Sirius on the World Adventure they seemed determined to have. Harry tried not to let the bitterness eat his heart and tried, and failed, to feel pride toward his godfather that doesn't seem to be taking his title seriously. Why was Remus allowed to be with Sirius but he wasn't? Why did he have to be stuck with the Dursley's when he has a cleared Godfather in the world.

" _Boy_ ," Vernon's voice whispered menacingly as he slammed a finger into the table and making Harry's thoughts focus back onto the present. "If you so much as talk when not needed, eat more than you're given, or so much as ruining the chance of us getting some of Mr.Jurgens-Ratenicz's money, then you will be punished."

Finally letting the shiver that threatens him the entire night go, Harry felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he gave a short, sharp nod to his uncle. "Understood, sir," Harry muttered as he glanced away from his uncle and stared at the table in front of him, which also happens to have Vernon's finger still on it.

"Good," Vernon responded before leaning back as the front door opened once more and Boris came back into the room.

His face was blank but Harry peaked through his bangs and saw the tight look around his uncle's eyes before they seemed to soften when he looked at Harry. Feeling a frown start on his face, Harry wondered what the soft look was for? He's seen Hermione have it a few times when she talks about her parents or Crookshack but it was never directed at him.

Never by anyone in his family. Harry wondered what it meant.

The dinner seemed stilted after that, Boris answering in short sentences and seeming tenser with every second. Harry has a spark of pride when his uncle mentions the food being amazingly good and off-handly complimented the chef. Feeling warm even as his aunt thanked Boris and saying how much work she put into it, Harry didn't feel the bitterness that usually came with someone complimenting the food and his aunt responding.

Maybe it had to do with the fact Boris had winked at him after he said it.

No, Harry was just imaging things. Boris certainly didn't know he made the dinner.

Finally, with a dreaded feeling, Harry and the Dursley family said goodnight to Boris and watched him leave. Harry feeling much tensor with his uncle gone even with the guilt of the knowledge that if his uncle stays longer, the more of a chance the Dursley's have of stealing his money. Harry washed the dishes and scrubbed the downstairs one last time before finally heading upstairs to get some much-needed rest.

The nightmares weren't every night, but he did finally find a way to use a pocket-knife that Hermione had gifted him one Christmas along with some self-defense books, and with the help of Beginners Rune book, he carved the Silencing Runes around his bed. After he changed into a pair of shorts that use to fit a six-year-old Dudley that fit him perfectly now, and his jersey for Quidditch that had his last name and number on the back, which was last year's jersey that still fit him perfectly, he exited his room and was about to head downstairs to use the bathroom.

As he was at the top of the stairs, Vernon lumbered and stomped his way out of his own bedroom with a harsh glare at Harry that made him freeze in his spot. "Were you deaf when I told you what to do earlier, Freak!" Vernon spitted out, his mustache crunched around his mouth that was set in a scowl.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Harry stumbled out, his heartbeat fast and feeling the Fight or Flight conflict inside him, sweat gathering near the back of his neck as he seemed rooted to the spot.

"The Posh Idiot Uncle of yours told us that we were only going to hear from him once more before nothing. You ruined out chances with your freakishness!" Vernon said and Harry saw the hand raise up and knew exactly what was about to happen next.

The pain around his eye shouldn't have surprised him, but after nearly a year without abuse, it caused Harry to step backward. Having been at the top of the stairs though, meant he caught nothing and wasn't ready for the sudden inclination. His foot slipped, and Harry felt his body suddenly become slightly dizziness at the sudden difference in height as he fell. He tried to twist and put his hands out in front of him only for a sharp pain to burst through the middle of his arm and a resounding crack echo through the house as his body fell on the arm making the pain worsen.

Feeling a scream worm it's way out of his throat, Harry felt himself fall down the stairs before a particular turn made his head hit the bottom of a step and black swarmed his eyesight.

He just heard the front door slam open when he lost consciousness.


	3. Shadow Pond

Harry felt consciousness return to a soft hand slowly stroking the hair on top of his head. It felt like something his father might've done when he was a baby and was just growing his hair or was sick in bed and just wanted some comfort to help fall asleep. Feeling the yearn in his chest and beating it down like he's done for over the last thirteen years, Harry struggled and opened his eyes.

The hand paused in its motion as Harry blearily turned his head to look to see who was next to him, half expecting his father but met the light grey eyes of Boris whose face seemed almost sorrowful. Though, it was hard to tell as many things around him were blurry.

Groggily, Harry reached up with his hand and paused as he noticed some type of weight on it, squinting his eyes he noticed it was a green cast that looked remarkably like the color of his eyes. "Glasses?" Harry asked through his dry mouth and used his other hand reached up around his eyes, wondering if his glasses survived the fall down the stairs or not.

Boris silently helps up his round-framed glasses and Harry grabbed them before shoving them on his nose, the sights around him clearing even as he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the gunk that was around them. Finally feeling a little bit more awake once done, Harry looked around and noted the white walls and pristine look that surrounded him and withheld a groan that wanted to escape him. Great, he was in a hospital.

"When can I leave?" Harry asked instead, already trying to shove down the panic feeling in his chest at the place.

Rule one of the Dursley's, never tell anyone about your home life. It was even worse with Doctors, to help reaffirm the idea, the Dursley's filled Harry's head about horror stories about hospitals. While Harry knows a lot of them were exaggerated realistically, it still left a bitter taste in his mouth and often left him restless to leave.

Boris was still silent after a few seconds he asked so Harry turned his head to look at his uncle, blatantly realized the fact his uncle was there, and had apparently been the one that was running his fingers through Harry's hair. "Hopefully soon," Boris finally settled on as their eyes-connected.

"When are you going?" Harry asked and squashed down the feeling of hope in his chest, surely if his uncle was here he cared about him. But no, no one in his family except maybe his father and mother cared about him.

The frown on Boris' face seemed to deepen as his eyes crinkled, seeming in thought. "What makes you think I am?" Boris finally asked as leaned back in his seat, his hand finally leaving Harry's bed.

Harry felt his own frown on his face even as he pushed aside the pain that resonated through his body. Having learned from Madam Pomphrey that Muggle Drugs exited a Magical's Body quicker due to their magic not liking it in their system. Harry almost wished Muggle Hospitals had Pain Relievers. "Everyone leaves," he plainly said without much emotion, just stating a fact.

If anything, his uncles frown deepened and a sorrow look entered his uncle's face. "Not me," his uncle said, "I promise."

"Promises mean nothing," Harry said with bitterness as he remembered Sirius' promise in Third Year before he took back barely a year later. No one keeps their promise. No one.

"Maybe," his uncle said not too soon after, his face softening the more he looked at Harry, "but maybe it might mean more if I tell you that you will no longer be living with the Dursley's."

Instead of calming him, Harry felt his heart rate speed up and heard the rapid beeping near him. His vision swarming as his thoughts raced. No, that can't be possible. Dumbledore always said he had to live with them, he always had to live with them. From preschool, the one year he tried to tell someone about the abuse, to the Doctor visits his aunt sometimes took him on for school's sake, to no one at Hogwarts seeming to listen to him not wanting to go back. He was an orphan, he knew what it meant."

He barely heard himself muttered no's around as a man in a white coat and two females in white scrubs with animals on it entered the room. Instead, he saw people crowding him and flinched back, scrambling on the bed and ignoring the sharp pain his arm went through as he struggled to get out of the suddenly restricting covers and the room that suddenly seemed too small. Too crowded. No, he wasn't in the Cupboard, he tried telling himself but suddenly he was there. In the thin mattress that was falling apart, catching the thin sheet of the blanket he's had for over twelve years, broken crayon cradling in his left hand while his right imagined there was another hand clutching it, his mother's hand.

But wait, his mother was dead. She wasn't here.

Harry pulled himself away from his vision as he glanced at his right arm that lacked a cast and trailed up the arm that connected to his clutching hand. Stormy grey, like it, was threatening to storm above him but wasn't, just a calm, if slightly cold, day. Somehow the idea of the cold wind made a rush of breath flow through Harry as he stared at the worried eyes.

They almost looked green, under this lighting.

"Easy, Harry. Easy. It'll be okay," he faintly heard Boris mutter as Harry just focused on Boris' eyes.

They were a duller green than his mom's. But he did have to say they looked remarkably green under this lighting before shifting to their stormy grey. A hand on his shoulder which Harry flinched at first before settling as he noticed it was Boris'. Boris wouldn't hurt him? Would he? No, he's tried his best to include Harry in their conversations, steering it clear from something that might upset his uncle. There was even the one time during the two weeks he saw his uncle enter the park and just sit next to him on the swing set Harry was hanging out on that hadn't seemed to fall apart yet due to Dudley.

They talked about an open field that laid a single house and guesthouse, full of privacy and seeming away from the world. A place where Boris goes to relax, where he talks about solitude but friendship he found. A regret of kicking out a friend on the place before calling the man seemingly after talking to Harry and inviting him back.

It sounded perfect.

"I don't want to go to an orphanage," Harry finally muttered, his hearing slowly coming back even as his vision stayed on Boris' face.

"You don't have to, I promise," Boris said just as softly even as he pushed Harry's fringe out of his face and slowly cupped his cheek with a soft look. " _I promise._ "

Harry realized that soft look was love, and it was directed at him.

* * *

He thought flying in a helicopter would be scary. It was different than riding a broom, a broom he has the control and can adjust the height at any time. There was no control in a helicopter, just trust in the machine and the pilot. But Harry loved it, loved the height, and loved looking out the window as the surroundings raced by them.

They had taken a private airplane from England to America, another first for Harry, before going on a private helicopter Boris seemed to own and traveling the rest of the way from the Hamptons to Boris' home.

 _Shadow Pond_ , he called it with a contemplative tone. _A beautiful place_.

And it was, Harry thought as they finally flew over the place and Boris leaning closer to Harry, even with the headphones they had on that had the mic's on them, and pointing out his home.

Their home, he corrected with astonishment.

When he first learned Boris was going to be his guardian, Harry was at first hesitant. He was a freak with magic, what would his uncle want with him.

But apparently, magic did run in the family. While Boris himself didn't have magic, he did say his father actually did before he had been taken by the genetic disorder that plagued their family that ended with the males dying before the age of 44. He knew of Harry and what's he supposedly has done but made sure Harry knew he wasn't going this for that, he was doing this because he liked Harry and just couldn't leave him in the situation life seemed to leave him in.

Harry figured there was more to the story but let it drop. He'd let Boris have his secrets, after all, the man was his guardian out of his own will. Harry promised himself not to screw it up and be sent to an orphanage after he learned the Dursley Family has been tried and convicted of child abuse and attempted murder. Dudley himself living with his aunt but having mandatory meets with a Child Psychologist after they realized how far the abuse went that it affected their own son's way of thinking.

Though, as the place came closer, so did the sinking feeling in Harry's chest. One of the reasons he was able to get out of the hospital so quickly, even with a broken arm and concussion, was because Boris had assured the place he had his own doctor back home that Harry would be seeing. Harry wasn't looking forward to going from one hospital to another.

As they exited the helicopter, ducking as Boris taught him, he expected to go to the long driveway he saw from the helicopter but as he moved toward the driveway, his new uncle's hand touched his shoulder and Harry automatically ducked out of the touch before looking up at Boris. He seemed upset, but not much as Harry moved from his touch, a look of understanding briefly on his features before he flattened his expressions and tilted his head toward the mansion. Harry's anxiety made him keep quiet even as they entered the place and he felt his breath almost leave him. 

It was just as beautiful as Boris had described. Not as old as Hogwarts but seemed to have a gentle beauty, the hard floors clean and polished that Harry could almost see his reflection in it. The stone walls that while not cracked, seemed just as old and had a tale to tell. He was lead through the manor to an almost living-room-like area, couches were all along the middle of the room and along the walls opposite of the windows were bookshelves that had thousand of books. In the corner of the room sat a piano that, while polished, Harry had a feeling wasn't used often.

The guards, which he had learned was Boris', and now his, protection was around the yard to make sure no one without permission entered the main mansion. It seemed the guest cottage did have a decent amount of companies. Being directed to sit on the couch made him antsy and confused as what was happening, but soon enough Boris was on the phone calling someone named Hank and grabbed some folders from nearby. 

Harry briefly saw his name across the tab of the yellow folder before the doors of the room were opened by the bodyguards and a man that seemed to be around 30 entered the room, his brown hair matching his hazel eyes that looked like they spent a lot of time smiling and in the sun.

He approached almost slowly, a brown bag by his side as he knelt in front of the chair Harry was sitting on. Boris looking over attentively which almost made Harry relax just a little bit. His uncle wouldn't have invited the man to hurt him...right? Harry tried to calm his anxiety as he tried to ignore his racing heart and sudden dry throat as he gave a weak smile at the man who seemed to return it.

The man's own smile reaching his eyes and subconsciously making Harry relax, just a little bit more as he shifted in his seat, almost itching to get out and away from the room but knew he couldn't exactly go anywhere. "Hello, I'm Doctor Hank Lawson, what's your name?" the man asked calmly and gave a small look to Boris who seemed almost as anxious as Harry.

Boris immediately sat up in his seat and stopped his own leg from bouncing, seeing the man he's come to know that would save him act so...stiff, around this stranger made the bundle of nerves inside Harry ignite once more, any calmness the man-induced earlier was suddenly gone.

"Harry," Harry said softly and briefly glanced at Boris, almost like he was asking for permission. "I thought we were going to see the Doctor at the hospital?" Harry asked, his nerves making him shift uncomfortably.

"I"m what they call a concierge Doctor," Hank began, his soft voice almost soothing even as his eyes seemingly assessed Harry wide-open if the stiffness around his eyes were any indication.

Harry knew he had bruising around his eye a dark black, showing he had gotten punched there and by a large hand, too large for a child that is, his stomach having similar bruising from his ribs hitting the wooden stairs, one of his arms in a green cast while the other had finger-shaped bruises around the wrist from apparently when his uncle tried to grapple him awake after he fell before Boris' men made him let go and get away from him.

"It means, I go to the people that need me, instead of them coming to me. Tell me, Harry, do you like the sound of that? Me coming to you instead of the other way around?" Hank asked calmly.

Thinking about it carefully, Harry nodded. "No hospitals?" he asked with a quiet voice, almost afraid of the answer.

"Not without reason, things like the check-up I'm about to do means no hospitals. If there's something wrong though, hospitals are needed," Hank explained as he slowly opened the back by his side and seemed careful in the way he moved, almost like he was making sure Harry could watch all his movements so nothing startled him.

They spent the next few minutes with the Doctor, Hank he recalled after the man corrected him softly and with a kind smile, that seemed to do a basic checkup. After they were done he pulled Boris aside where the man handed him the vanilla folder with Harry's name on it and they talked a bit more as the Doctor looked through it, a frown narrowing his face as he seemingly read what was in the file before sticking it under his arm and walking back over to Harry.

"Harry, the file Boris handed me was your Hospital Records over the years, mind if I ask if you've had any shots that you can remember? No matter your age?" Hank asked calmly as he saw on the coffee table in front of Harry instead of kneeling like before.

Frowning and concentrating on the number of times he was in the muggle hospital, Harry shook his head. He didn't recall any shots and has only heard the horror stories from Dudley who seemed to always pitch a fit about it hurting and the Dursley Family going out for Ice-Cream for their 'brave Dudders'. Even in the Magical World, he doesn't recall any type of potion that would help with his body, just the ones he needed to heal any injuries Quidditch Related. He never even got anything for any colds he's gotten because he was too terrified to go during the time and often Hermione would happen to have the potion he would need to instantly feel better.

"Alright, well," Hank started and seemingly collected his thoughts even as the disturbed expression on his face was poorly masked, at least to Harry it was poor. "Do you mind coming down to my cottage tomorrow to get some? They're quite important and I think it would help you," Hank asked as he glanced away from Harry and toward Boris, asking both their permissions.

Harry watched Boris, waiting for his action and permission. Harry didn't really know anything about shots, but if Boris thought he needed them and trusted Hank, then he didn't really see a problem in going there tomorrow. His anxiety about the entirely new situation aside, he thought it might be interesting and a good time to learn the layout of the cottage and the residence that live there, get a feel for them, and if they could be trusted.

Whether they would turn out to be a blind McGonagall or Poppy, hidden abusive like Dumbledore, or the obvious abusive like the Dursley's. Everyone has an agenda, he learned early on, and no one was ever truly kind to another person without wanting something in return.

He was still figuring out his uncle as it was, these new people were also going to be a challenge.

"Is that alright with you, Harry?" Boris asked drawing Harry out of his brief thoughts as they seemingly halted in their place.

He had a choice?

He's never had a choice before.

"If you think I should get them, then I will," Harry answered slowly, watching his uncle for any type of expression change, whether he failed and angered his uncle or not.

"Harry," Boris said, his voice seemed very soft and understanding as he knelt beside Harry, something Harry was still getting used to, adults bending down so they're on eye-level, a show that they're mutual in respect and that they weren't higher than him. "You have a choice, you can say no."

His mouth felt incredibly dry even as his eyes felt watery. A choice. He had a choice.

"Okay," he said quietly as he tried to subtly rub his eyes from the tears that gathered. He was fourteen, almost fifteen, for Godrick's sake, he shouldn't be crying like a baby over something so stupid. "Yeah, I think I'd like it."

Boris nodded, a soft smile on his face even as his hand reached up to tussle Harry's hair. Harry felt himself relax for a few seconds before the instinct to move away from the hand ran through his body. While the contact didn't last long, it was certainly longer than normal.

"Okay, I'll make the meeting for tomorrow, you can stop by before or after lunch," Hank said with an understanding sad smile in his face before he calmly said goodbye to both Boris _and_ Harry and left the room.

Harry just knew his new life was going to be interesting, this was just the start.


End file.
